How Not to Write Hetalia Fanfiction
by sajere1
Summary: Parodyfic. Look at your fanfiction. Now back to this one. Now back to yours. Now back to this one. If they're anything alike, go take a writing class right now. In which Sajere1 explores equally terrible ways to write a USUK short.


I own nothing.

Note that this is a PARODYFIC, and should not be taken seriously.

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><p><strong>The 'My Immortal' Way<br>**

i wuz lik, 'omg arteiiiii! dun leave meee!11one1!one'

aretie dint wana fite. 'i dun wana fite,' he sed anrigly. 'jus lte me go!1'

'nuuuuuuuuuuu1' i creid, faling to his fet an sobing be4 realizing he wuz an as. den i ran of even tho he wuz yellin for me, and when i finally reached the door tehre wuz a man standin dere. it was...france! omg! (A/N I cudda left ya wit a clif hungar her, cuddnt i?)

'stay away, franze,' i cried. 'yur nam suks n so do u1'

'i is srry fr hurtin yu,' fracne sed, 'dun cry, Alfred Frevony Light Inception Sparrow Joens. i luv u.'

'i luv you 2!1111one!' i reply, and he huged me n i stoped cryin n we lived haply ever after. but then...arhtur returned! OmG!

A/N: din't i leve you wit an awesum clifhangr? Huh? Flamerz r preps! Fangz 2 raven!

_...I think I killed a bit of my soul writing that._

**The 'My characters aren't Stus!' Way**

Alfred basked in the hot, steamy, slightly arousing sun, ratty, gray, old shirt removed to reveal an 18-pack that glistened with cool, clear water though the rest of his body was completely dry and he was nowhere near a pool. He flicked a bit of hair, golden like gold or the sun or sand or gold paint or an oddly colored cat or a yellow crayon or a lightbulb or a duck stuffed animal or a star or corn or popcorn, out of his eyes, blue like the sky or the ocean or the _night_ sky or a blue retainer or the _sunset's_ sky or blue wrapping paper or the _sunrise's_ sky or that one dude's hair from that one anime on that one website. (A/N Link on my profile, LOL ;) :) ;D :D XD :P XP :3 X3 D: ): :O :p) He coughed, but somehow it was a charming cough, like a soft, smooth, Mozart/Beethoven-y, lovely, better-than-Roderich-could-ever-do-because-Roderich's-a-mo-fo melody.

Abruptly, he jumped up and the previously tranquil water rolled off in sheets, though it had somehow only been on his chest. Though he was a big, strong, manly man and not actually gay before this point, his legs were shaved beneath the red, flaming, totally awesome swim trunks (though, as previously stated, he was nowhere near a pool), and he had an entirely unnecessary, described-in-such-detail-that-part-of-the-fic-should-be-rated-M, erection. He picked up wiry, rectangular glasses that had come completely out of nowhere and put them on his face, though they seemed to make him look more heroic than geeky in some way or another.

"Arthur!" he cried dramatically, falling to his knees (despite the erection that should have made this at least a bit painful) and letting a single, lone, on-it's-own tear escape and fall down his face as he watched the man who had, quite literally, appeared out of thin air a few feet away. "Don't leave me! I love you far too much, my lovely, loving, love-filled love, for you to leave! Our love will make you stay!"

Arthur, with hair similar to Alfred's but not quite because it was _waaay_ lighter but not _too _much lighter, like dark yellow paint compared to light yellow paint, (A/N You know, like those two celebs? Links on my profile :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD) and eyes green like grass or turtles or money or I am _so_ not getting paid enough to write this, turned, his hair dramatically whipping away from his face, and it looked wet even though no water dripped down onto him. He only had a 12-pack but Alfred thought he was beautiful anyways. "I cannot stay," Arthur said, gorgeous, generous green orbs betraying the absolute, irreversible, impossible-to-miss pain (though Alfred, of course, missed it). "It is far too dangerous. I love you too much, and love is not a kind thing."

Abruptly, Alfred ran out of tears and he stood, unnecessary erection never leaving, glaring passionately at the man. "I hate you!" he screamed, despite the fact he had just been sobbing and declaring his love would keep the man with him. He blatantly ignored the pain that filled Arthur's face (or perhaps he was just that oblivious), turning and stomping out.

"Ah, Alfred, what iz wrong? I am 'ere for you wiz zee Google translated _française, non?_"

"Stay away from me, Francis," Alfred refused immediately, glaring at the man. Francis' hair, blonde that was the precise shade of honey and bird's feet and cream and soup and oranges in a certain light, was wavy and reached his shoulders. His eyes were blue, but a different shade than Alfred's, his like Stitch or the Internet sign or my one jacket or _God, please kill me now_ or that one other color of that one other guy's hair in that one anime. He stared at Alfred, and abruptly Alfred felt oddly aware of his now-somehow-necessary erection.

"Come now, _Amerique,_" Francis said softly, opening his arms. "I am here whenever you need me."

And Alfred's tear ducts started working again and he began crying loudly, running into the Frenchman's arms, cradled by the slightly older man. France stroked his hair gently, whispering sweet nothings until Alfred reached up and crashed their mouths together.

The kiss was (of course) everything Alfred could ever want, with passion and romance and quite a few mixed feelings coming out. Their mouths moved against each other, and when France practically begged for entrance Alfred complied, allowing the man to explore his mouth with his incredibly skillful tongue. As he was pushed against the wall (created deus ex machina) and the hands running through his hair became less gentle, Al wondered, wildly, if they would be doing more than kissing that night.

"Alfred?" Arthur's voice floated in from the (again deus ex machina) doorway, sounding hurt and betrayed despite himself hurting and betraying the man only moments before. Alfred, for some unfathomable reason, immediately shoved the panting, gorgeous Frenchman off of him, eying Arthur desperately, but 'twas in vain, as the Englishman had fled.

A/N: Just cause I'm descriptive doesn't mean I'm a bad writer! JESUS!

_I didn't know I could write this badly. Interesting._

**The 'Movie Script' Way**

Alfred: *Flips his hair before giving Iggy puppy dog eyes* Don't leave, Artie? PLEEEEEASE?

Arthur: *Trying not to cry* I have to leave, for the good of the countries!

Alfred: NOOOO! *Runs out crying*

Francis: Let's kiss, non?

Alfred: OK! *They kiss*

Arthur: ALFRED I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME.

Alfred: But-

Arthur: THAT'S IT. I WAS THINKING OF STAYING, BUT NOW I SEE THE TRUTH. *Walks away*

Alfred: NOOOO, ARTHUR, I DIDN'T MEAN IT! COME BACK. *Runs after*

Francis: I'll just go jack off then...*leaves*

A/N: FLAMERS SUCK.

_I would so flame this._

**The 'Just Dialogue' Way**

"Arthur, don't leave! Why are you leaving me with my beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes, and stunning clothes?"

"Because, git, I with my green eyes and slightly blonder hair am sick of you!"

"Y-you don't mean that...I HATE YOU."

"Wanna make out?"

"Sure!"

"I can't tell. Which of us is speaking?"

"_Honhonhonhonhon..._"

"..."

"..."

"LET'S RUN AWAY."

A/N: In case you couldn't tell, it was: Alfred, Arthur, Alfred, Francis, Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Alfred, Arthur, Alfred AND Arthur (ooooh, twist ;))

_There are actually some pretty good just dialogue fics. But it gets really, really confusing with more than two people.  
><em>

**The 'OOC Mpreg Featuring OOC Rapist' Way**

"I'm pregnant!"

"But..." Alfred gaped. "But you're a _man._"

"Yes, Alfred," Arthur snapped, irritable because he was pregnant, not because he was a normally angry person. Psh. What gave you that idea? "I noticed that I am a man. Now, what are we going to do about it?"

"Um..." Alfred's mind was scrambled. He was, of course, entirely serious about this (when was he not?), gazing seriously at Arthur. Seriously, might I add. "Can we get an abortion?"

"Why would you want to, git?" Arthur asked, abruptly turning horrified.

"W-well, you asked me what we were going to do about it!"

"God, you're a git." Arthur looked disgusted now, and Alfred stood, glaring angrily because he was easily moved to violence.

"Well, fine! I'll just leave," he snapped, because heroes would stay and work it out and Al was _so_ not a hero. "Thanks for the 3 years of memories. See you never."

"Then go ahead and leave!" Arthur said, voice heartbroken despite the words because Artie was a very, very sensitive person who cried very easily, especially when it came to Alfred.

Alfred stormed out, suddenly stopped by a chill of fear. Because he wasn't scared of anything, he turned to investigate, met with France's predatory eyes. The man immediately grabbed him and pulled him forward in a very compromising position. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way," the man purred.

Alfred immediately began struggling. "Arthur! Arthur, help!"

Arthur, ignoring the fact that he had just been in a fight with Alfred because he was an extremely forgiving person, rushed in, smacking Francis over the head, who doubled over because Francis is a wimp and even though he's forgiving and sensitive and emo, Arthur is very strong. "Don't touch my git, git!" he growled.

"Arthur!" Alfred screeched, eyes widening in adoration.

Arthur smiled at him softly. "Let's go home."

A/N: AAAAW, HAPPY ENDING.

_I suppose not completely terrible in terms of the writing itself, but pretty damn horrifying in every other way._

**The ****'Karaoke' Way**

"Arthur...why do you always leave?" Alfred asked desperately, clinging to the man's jacket before bursting into song.

_"Am I not pretty enough?_" he sang. "_Is my heart too broken? Do I cry too much? Am I too outspoken? Don't I make you laugh? Should I try it harder? Why do you see right through me?"_

Arthur, abruptly, changed the genre, singing back. "_The seven things I hate about you - your pain, your games, you're insecure, you love me, you like _her," he pointed to a conveniently placed photo of Taiwan, "_you make me laugh, you make me cry, I don't know which side to buy! Your friends, their jokes, when you act like them, just know it hurts, I wanna be with the one I know, and the seventh thing I hate the most that you do...you make me love you._"

As the two embraced, France stood behind the conveniently placed Taiwan poster. "_Am I not pretty enough?_" he mumbled before turning and walking away.

_PUT SOME PANIC! AT THE DISCO IN THERE, FOR JESUS' SAKE. AT LEAST THAT MAKES IT REMOTELY BEARABLE._

**The 'Sajere1' Way**

"Alfred...Alfred..._Alfred!_ I'm leaving!"

"Whuzzat?" Alfred asked, tongue sticking out slightly, eyes glued to the video game. His controller was up to the right of his head, as though that would help him die less. "Huh? You're leaving already? How come?"

"It's my night to make dinner at home," Arthur grumbled, rolling his eyes. Did he really have to be in love with such an _idiot?_ "Can you put up your stupid game for two minutes to see me out?"

Alfred grimaced. "Tell your brother I get his Halo collection. Speaking of which, Kingdom Hearts is so totally _not_ dumb!" He paused the game just as Kairi was hugging Sora; he jumped up and stretched. Arthur coughed awkwardly to hide his blush as he watched the teen. "I mean, look at the storyline. It's so deep."

"I wasn't aware the word 'deep' was in your vocabulary," Arthur grumbled, but Alfred walked him to the door of the apartment regardless. The two naturally fell into the regular bantering argument, Arthur's insults mostly considering of British curses like 'You're nutburgers!' and Alfred's having a lot to do with Arthur's food sucking. This of course, brought on their regular tea-coffee debate, and suddenly Alfred hadn't just walked Arthur out of his apartment, but the entire apartment _building._

"Jeez, time flies when you're arguing about coffee," Alfred said cheerfully, earning a snort from his English friend. "Talk to you later?"

"Yeah," Arthur agreed easily, giving the teen a soft wave before turning and walking away.

Neither of them noticed the Frenchman and Hungarian behind the bush, two cameras perched at perfect viewing angle as they said good-bye.

_Yeah...my writing's so terrible it gets its own thing._

**The 'Reviewer' Way**

_That's right. Review with your way. I _dare_ you.  
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